


without a shadow of a doubt

by flowerpetal275



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Depressed Nico di Angelo, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Nico di Angelo, Jason Grace is a Good Friend, M/M, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace-centric, Percy Jackson is a Good Friend, Sick Nico di Angelo, Triggers, Will Solace is a Good Boyfriend, also sorry things get intense hehe, just hang in there i promise it gets fluffier, mostly angst though lol, possible one shots if people want them?, solangelo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29566173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerpetal275/pseuds/flowerpetal275
Summary: Nico can't seem to find a reason as to why the son of Apollo wastes so much of his energy on the worthless son of Hades. He knew he was too far gone for anyone, let alone this oddly adorable, annoying boy, to pull him back from the pits of his self-deprecation.Nico feels like nothing but a shell, a shadow of what his life used to be.And after all, you can't touch a shadow.__major trigger warning, please read at your own discretion.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo & Will Solace
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. three days

**Author's Note:**

> just to repeat: major trigger warnings throughout this book! 
> 
> (self-harm, depressive thoughts/activity, dissociation, thoughts of suicide, etc.)
> 
> please take care of yourselves <3

I trudge away from Percy, a sudden relief flowing through me. I'd finally done it. I told him how I felt.

With that looming weight suddenly gone, I feel a heavy exhaustion pull at my muscles. I realize exactly how much shadow traveling I'd done within the past few weeks, and take note of the toll it's taking on me.

My feet drag up the steps to my cabin. "What'd you say to Percy?" Will Solace's voice surprises me, making me jump and miss a step. I fall forward on my hands and knees, my head reeling as I hit the ground. "Oh, my gods, Nico-" Will rushes up to me, reaching to help me back up.

"Get off me." I sneer back, trying to pull my arms away.

Will takes a step back, palms raised. "Got it, sorry."

I take a deep breath before grabbing the railing to pull myself back up. Now that I'm on the ground, it feels like my muscles are giving up on me.

"Do you need help?" Will pipes up again, taking a step closer.

"No." I reply shortly, sternly. My jaw clenches as I struggle to pull myself back up to my feet. This is so embarrassing.

"Nico, it's okay if you need-"

"I said I don't need your help. Leave me alone, Solace." I grumble between pants for breath. Will, however, refuses to leave.

"Now, I know you don't mean that, Nico." He hums sweetly, crossing his arms. "We all say rude stuff when we're sleep-deprived."

"I'm not sleep-deprived." I retort. Finally, I give up on trying to pull myself up and just sit there on the ground.

Will snorts. "Why are you still on the ground?"

My cheeks blush red, embarrassed by his laugher. "Don't laugh at me."

Will seems to then realize why I'm not getting up. "Can you not get up?" His smile immediately falls. "Oh, Nico, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

I cross my arms. "Can it, Solace."

"Either way, you promised me 3 days in the infirmary." Will reaches down to help me up, but I flinch away.

"I don't need to go to the stupid infirmary."

"You obviously do, considering you're not even strong enough to get up off the ground." He crosses his arms as he watches me. "Come on, Nico."

Against my will, Will wraps my arm around his shoulder and starts to help me across camp. "I don't want to-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Will sighs, watching the ground as we walk to make sure we don't trip over anything.

We walk in silence for an awkward 5 minutes as we make our trek across camp. Once there, I groan as I look up at the infirmary. "This is so stupid."

Will scoffs, "Taking care of yourself isn't stupid, di Angelo."

I sigh in response, rolling my eyes. "So I'm tired, that's nothing I can't fix in my own bed." He guides me through the infirmary. My face burns beet red as a few looks are cast towards us. They're probably confused as to why Will's helping me.

Will rolls his eyes at me as he helps me into a private room. "Regardless, I want to keep an eye on you." He helps me sit down on the bed, pushing my shoulders lightly so I'm laying down.

I cross my arms in defiance. "I don't need anybody's eyes on me."

"Too bad." Will replies as he pulls out a clipboard. He attaches a paper to it and immediately gets to work on writing down notes.

I wonder what he's writing, but I keep my mouth shut. My head leans back against the bed almost involuntarily, as if sleep were already pulling me under. Will notices my sudden drowsiness, his eyebrows bunching in concern momentarily. "I'll let you get some rest." He gives me a small smile, then leaves the room and shuts the door behind him. Will turns off the light as he goes, drenching the room in darkness.

My mind lulls away, hopefully to a dreamless sleep.

Damn it, Solace.


	2. checkup

My eyes peep open one at a time. I go to sit up, finding most of my muscles numb and sore for some reason. "Hello?" I call out, rubbing at my eyes.

The room is pitch black, sending a cold shiver down my spine. The window to my left has thick curtains pulled over it to dampen the light attempting to seep from the corners. I crawl out of the bed, surprised when I find my legs numb. I clamber to the floor, groaning when I realize what had just happened.

Suddenly, the door flies open and the lights are flicked on. I squint in the bright light as I try to figure out what's happening. "Nico!" Will's shrill voice pipes up excitedly. "You're awake!"

"Um, yeah." I say matter-of-factly as I try to sit up. Why do my legs feel like jelly?

Will bends down to meet my eyes, his features etched with concern. "Did you fall? Are you hurt?" I groan both internally and externally when his eyes roam my body for any point of injury.

"I'm fine." I reply with a sigh. "How long have I been asleep for?"

"Three days." Will replies simply, moving to help me up. He's also surprised when my legs swoop out from under me.

"Three days?" I echo, raising my eyebrows.

"Yeah, I was getting a little worried..." Will's voice trails off as he helps me back up into the bed. "But it's okay, you're awake now."

My eyes watch his face skeptically. For a fraction of a second, I feel something similar to tickling in my chest. I'm not sure what it is, but I only felt it when I met Will's eyes. "Yeah..."

"How do you feel? Are you dizzy?" He asks as he grabs the clipboard from the desk. The pen grazes the paper, ready for any answer I'm about to give.

"I'm fine." I reply simply. Will hesitates—that wasn't the answer I was supposed to give.

"I didn't ask if you were fine, di Angelo. I asked how you feel." He sighs exasperatedly, giving me a small, playful smirk.

"I _feel_ fine." I lie through my teeth, the grogginess in my head making it feel like my thoughts are covered with tar. Will sighs and starts checking things off his clipboard, humming quietly as he does so. "What are you writing?" I ask abruptly.

"Nothing you need to worry about, that's my job." He replies simply, going over to the cabinet to pull out a needle and a bag of some kind of clear liquid.

"Woah, woah, woah—what's that for?" I stutter, squirming in the bed as he approaches me with the materials.

"It's an IV bag, Nico. Gives you nutrients." He hooks up the bag to some kind of stand beside the bed, and grabs a pair of blue latex gloves from a package in the cabinet. "Give me your arm."

I clutch my arm to my side, not trusting him to stick me with that needle. "Nico." Will says sternly, raising his eyebrows at me. I slowly show him my arm, and he grabs it gently with his gloved hand.

Even with the thin veil of latex between my arm and his hand, I still somehow feel small sparks right where he'd touched me. The same weird tickling feeling blooms in my chest, surprising me. 

What the hell is this?

Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in my underarm and I look down at my arm carelessly, finding the needle inside. While the sight may make me feel anxious, I ignore it, knowing that I've seen and endured far worse than this.

I'm honestly surprised that Will hasn't noticed my scars yet. There are less on my right arm though (which is the arm he's working on at the moment), since I'm right handed. So I guess that makes sense.

Just then, my stomach lets out an obnoxiously loud grumble. Will looks at me curiously, then realizes that I haven't eaten in a minimum of three days. "Are you hungry?"

I shrug in response.

"I could grab you some food, if you'd like?" Will offers, pulling off the blue gloves and tossing them in the garbage bin beside the door.

I wave him off, "Don't bother yourself with it." I don't want it to be an inconvenience to anyone. That's the whole reason I didn't want to come here in the first place. Well, that, and I wanted to be alone.

"Oh, it's not a bother at all." The boy smiles, his grin somehow brightening the room. "I was gonna grab some for myself anyways."

"Oh..." I hum. "Okay."

Will smiles at me one last time before leaving to go grab some food.

I've never been against food, really. It's just not a priority for me. After the whole...incident, I think my body forgot it was one of the three necessities to survive. Trying to stay alive inside that jar messed with my psychology.

Not to mention, when I eat too much, I end up puking it up anyways. Just too much for my stomach to handle.

Solace comes back a few minutes later, holding two trays of pasta. He sets one in front of me. "I know you're Italian, so I don't know..." He smirks, gesturing to the spaghetti meal. What a dork.

"Thanks." I smirk in response, picking up the fork to push the spaghetti around on my plate. Will sits in the chair beside my bed, mowing down on his dish immediately.

After a few minutes, "Are you gonna eat?" He asks skeptically, grabbing a bottle of water.

"Um, yeah." I nod at him and eat a forkful of spaghetti. Will smiles in satisfaction and turns back to his dish. I eat a few more forkfuls before I declare myself full.

"Already?" His eyebrows bunch together confusedly. "You didn't eat much."

I nod, my lips pursed. Not sure what he really expected from me.

"Could you try to eat more?" I can tell that he knows he's treading on thin ice here. I sigh and go back in for one more forkful. "There you go." Somehow, the smile that spreads across his face almost seems worth it.

Snap out of it, Nico. You barely know this guy, you can't get attached. I have to push him away.

I roll my eyes at his condescending tone. "Hey, you said three days in here, right?" I tilt my head at him.

"Yeah-"

"And it's been three days, hasn't it?" My eyes study Will's face.

"I mean, yeah, but-"

I push the plate away. "Then I'm out." My legs swing over the side of the bed and I go to leap off.

"Woah, woah, woah—I haven't even done a check-up yet. That does not count as three days." He insists with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, come onnnnn-" I groan as I look up at the ceiling. My hand reaches down to try to pull the IV out.

"Hey, no touching that." Will hops up and places his hand on mine to stop me from pulling it out. 

My stomach leaps into my throat as his fingers graze mine, flames dancing across my freezing skin where we had touched. Time seems to freeze as I stare at the contact. As quick as my mind is able, I yank my hand away. The feeling dwindles away, leaving me feeling empty. Will's eyes study my face as I look down. I can feel a blush creep along my sunken cheeks.

I sit back down on the bed slowly, still staring at the ground. "Can I do that check-up now?" Will asks quietly, also seemingly recovering from the moment.

I nod subtly.

He pulls on a new pair of latex gloves. "Shirt off."

"Excuse me?" I shoot back, raising my eyebrows at the son of Apollo.

"Shirt off." He repeats simply, gesturing to my chest. "Please." His eyes seem soft, molten with concern and an unnatural care that I've never been used to and never will be.

"Well, can I take the needle out, then?" I smirk, gesturing down to my forearm.

Will seems to realize my predicament. "Oh...yeah, I'll just put it back in afterwards." He removes the IV and sets it aside, leaving only an adapter hooked up to my arm. The boy notices my questioning look, "That part stays in your arm, so I don't have to poke you again. I'll just reattach the IV once we're ready." He explains.

Hesitantly, I pull my jacket off, followed by my shirt. Will releases a quiet gasp as he sees me, but quickly tries to cover it up. I know it looks bad, but he doesn't have to make it _that_ obvious.

I feel way too vulnerable sitting here with my shirt off. "Nico..." Will trails as his eyes dance along my body.

My skin is it's same ghostly pale, somehow even paler now than it usually is. Bruises and cuts litter my torso. My ribs and collar bones stick out from my chest, almost making me look like a walking skeleton. My arms and shoulders are thin, boney. However, the most alarming part of all of this is the werewolf scratches carved along my left forearm.

Will immediately grabs his clipboard and starts scribbling things down, looking at me every once in a while to remember what he wants to write next.

Gods, I hate this so much. I feel like a barbie doll.

"Can I put my shirt back on now?" l grumble as I scratch the back of my neck. 

"No." Will replies sternly, his face scrunched up with concentration. He sets the clipboard down and gently grabs my left forearm, turning it over to examine the scratches. "Why didn't you tell anyone about these?" His voice is stone.

"I mean, Reyna stitched them up so-"

"These are gonna get infected if they aren't taken care of, Nico. I-" He stops himself, reaching for disinfectant and some bandages. Judging by the concerned expression on his face, I'm guessing he expected me to flinch when he started cleaning and fixing the wound. Don't get me wrong--it hurt like Hades--But I wasn't about to let Will know that. The next twenty minutes are filled with an oddly comforting silence as Will carefully takes the stitches out of my forearm.

Suddenly, he stops just before reaching for the new stitches. "Nico..." His voice trails as he inspects my arm closer. "What-"

I look down to see what he's looking at. Then it clicks for me—he noticed them. "What, these?" I gesture to the multitude of small cuts I've made all over my forearm. Most have healed, since I haven't had the 'resources' to do it lately.

Will's face pales, "Yes, those." He gulps, afraid of my answer. "Where did you get those?"


	3. hurt

I pause, knowing my silence is answer enough. "Where do you think?" I reply with a small, brutal smirk. Will sets the bandages down and leans forwards against his knees, taking a few deep breaths. "Will, are you okay-"

Before I'm even able to finish my question, Will places a hand up to stop me. "Does anyone know you do this to yourself?" He grabs my arm again, gently tracing his fingers along the many scars. I shake my head, my curly hair bouncing a bit as I do so. "No one—" He stops himself, his jaw visibly clenching. "How long?"

I shrug, taking my arm back to inspect them myself. "A few years, maybe." Will looks at me incredulously, probably wondering why I'm acting so casually about all of this.

I would expectantly screech like a banshee at anyone who saw them, but what are they gonna do about it? Stop me? They're really gonna try to stop the big, bad Ghost King? Hilarious. Everyone's terrified of me. No one cares.

"No, I mean—" He stops for another deep breath, "How long since the last time?" It's almost as if he's dancing around using the words, afraid of the weight of them.

"Oh, probably a few weeks." I trace my own fingers along the scars, knowing I'll be going skin-to-blade again tonight.

"Nico..." His voice morphs into a melancholy rock, the tone of it almost making me feel guilty for what I do. "I can't let you do this."

I scoff, "Excuse me?" My eyebrows raise, "This doesn't effect anyone but myself. It's not you who's hurt by it."

Hurt flashes in his eyes. Not hurt for himself, but hurt for me. His concern throws me off. "Nico, it pains me to see you do this to yourself. It's not healthy. They could get inflected or you could bleed out-"

My face stiffens, "I know what I'm doing, Will." I reply forwardly.

"Why do you feel like you have to do this?" He pleads with me, his eyes drenched with nothing but concern and a certain sadness.

I huff. "I don't have to explain myself to you." What gives this guy the right to believe he's my therapist or something?

"I'm your Doctor, Nico. I'm supposed to take care of you-" He hums quietly, running a hand down his face. I can see the pain in his eyes when he looks back down at my scars again.

"It's no one's obligation to take care of me." I argue, my face incredulous. "Don't let it bother you. I'll be gone soon anyways, then it'll go back to how it was before."

"Which was?"

"I can sit in my cabin and do what I want. As long as I don't leave, no one has the right to judge me for whatever I want to do. Just me, alone. That's all I need and that's all I've ever needed." My voice is cold, rigid with a lie. I don't want to be alone. It's just easier that way. Easier for me, for everyone else.

I'm a psychotic basket-case, I can't be helped. I don't want to burden anyone with that worthless responsibility.

Will looks at me pitifully, and a spark of rage ignites in my chest. "You don't have to be alone." His voice is soft, careful.

"Yes, I do. I'm too far gone for anyone to have to worry about me. Everyone knows that. Common knowledge." I shrug as I pull my shirt back on.

"Okay, this conversation isn't over." He stops me, "But I need to re-stitch your arm." Will pulls out a small medical kit filled with a needle and other supplies for stitching wounds. The first thing he takes out of the box is a needle and a small bottle of some weird clear liquid.

"What's that?" I question uneasily, glancing at the bottle.

"Anesthetic." He replies simply.

My eyebrows raise as I stare at the liquid. "That does not look very aesthetic to me."

"No-" He chuckles, and another flutter tickles my chest. Or is it heart? No, heart would be weird. So, so weird...

Wouldn't it?

"It'll numb your arm, so it won't hurt while I stitch your arm up." His laugh is angelic, as calming as the sound of wind blowing through a field of grass. That's a good analogy for it.

"Oh, no way in hell are you numbing my arm. What if something happens?" I scoff at him.

"Like what?" The son of Apollo questions skeptically with bunched up eyebrows.

"Like something attacks camp! How could I help?"

"Uhhh, you wouldn't be doing anything anyways. Literally three days ago, you could barely get off the floor by yourself. Plus, you're still injured." He retorts as he starts to draw the numbing solution from the bottle.

"Please, just no anesthetic?" The word feels weird on my tongue. The consonants are very different from Italian, my native language.

He sighs after a moment, "Are you sure you're okay with the pain?"

"I'll be fine." I insist stubbornly. Will finally gives in and puts the anesthetic away.

"Fine. But you better tell me when it starts hurting too much." The teen starts stitching up the wounds, working delicately so as to create as little pain as possible.

My fists clench the sheets tightly as I struggle to keep in a small whimper of pain. The wounds are so raw from not being covered, it feels like someone is stabbing my arm over and over again. Will can tell it's unbearable for me, but doesn't say anything. He's probably waiting for me to get over my pride.

But I won't.

Eventually, he finishes and I feel drained of energy. Damn it, that hurt. "There. All done."

"Thanks..." I murmur quietly. There's a pause of awkwardness as I take a few more deep breaths to suppress the waves of pain radiating from the wounds.

"I'm gonna need you to eat some more of that food. You're all skin and bones, Nico." Will sighs as his eyes study my face. I probably look like a skeleton to him.

He stands and puts the kit away, tossing the needle.

"Nothing I can help." I shrug.

Will thinks for a moment. "Did you eat like this when you were younger?" He makes his way back to my bed.

"No."

"Then what changed?" He asks curiously, grabbing his clipboard again.

"I was, um..." My voice hitches in my throat, "Stuck in that jar." Realization dawns on Will's face. "Couldn't eat for what felt like forever, nothing but those stupid seeds."

Why am I opening up to this guy? I don't open up to anyone, let alone annoying-puppy-stranger-kid who forced me into the infirmary.

Will looks up from his clipboard momentarily. "So your stomach shrunk?"

"And so did my appetite." I sigh as I lean back in the bed.

He nods, still writing. His pencil taps the plate of spaghetti again, a signal for me to eat more. "I can't." I reply uncomfortably. "I told you, I'm full."

"You ate four bites, Nico. I know your stomach shrunk but you can eat more than that." He insists with a condescending sigh. Or at least, it felt condescending to me.

I know my stomach can't handle another bite, but I force it down the hatch anyways. Will wouldn't have let it go if I hadn't have at least tried.

As I swallow, I feel a weird pressure in my stomach. It almost hurts, forming a wince on my face. "Are you okay?" Will asks concernedly.

"I don't-" My hand smacks over my mouth as I realize what's about to happen. Shooting out of the bed, I sprint into the bathroom attached to the room and slam the door shut behind me, vigorously trying to lock it. For some reason, I really don't want Will to see this.

I barrel over to the toilet and vomit up the small portion of the meal I was able to eat. My hands shake as weakness overtakes me. Will is banging on the door, pleading for me to let him in.

I flush the toilet and stand on shaky legs, then wash my mouth out in the sink. Will finally makes it into the room, finding me standing over the sink feebly.

"Nico!" He calls, rushing up to me. "What happened?"

"Spaghetti happened." I grumble, the stinging of stomach acid in my throat not helping whatsoever.

"Did you puke?"

I lean forward against the sink on my elbows, trying to take a few deep breaths. Will seems to pick up an answer from my silence. "Oh, Nico—I'm so sorry. I should've listened-"

"What's done is done." I reply simply and start to walk back to the bed. I lay down gently on the mattress, curling up into a ball once I'm on it. I don't care if I look weak or stupid, I feel like crap.

Will's eyes soften as he looks at me, guilt flooding his features. "I'm really sorry, Nico."

"It's fine, not like I'm gonna die."

"Well, malnutrition-" He starts, squinting at me.

"-can take weeks to actually kill a person so chill." I finish for him, burying my face in the soft pillow. The way the pillow blocks out the light alleviates a little bit of the headache that's slowly starting to form in the back of my head.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Uhhh, death." I gesture to myself. "Dead things. Spooky. Scary. Skeletons." I wave my hands in the air subtly, as if I were jumping out at him but with about 100,000 times less enthusiasm.

"That doesn't mean you know anything about being healthy." He chuckles incredulously, grabbing the clipboard again. "Sooo that's for me to take care of."

I just grumble again and bury my face further into the sheets. Will gently grabs my arm and reinserts the IV. "Why do I even need to be here? You already took care of the scratches, it's been 3 days-"

"You obviously need to be taken care of." He says abruptly as he starts to walk away, scribbling away on my clipboard.

I shoot up from my mildly-comfortable position to give Will the deadliest glare I can manage. "I don't need anything from anyone, period." I roll back over and tuck my face into the sheets.

Will sighs, and I can almost taste the disappointment in his voice. I'm not surprised by it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. "Just get some rest, Skeleton Boy."

That one actually hurt. I don't think he meant to hurt my feelings, but he still did. I hate to admit it, but I'm actually pretty insecure about the way I look. I know I look like a walking corpse, but that's not anything I can help.

"Don't call me Skeleton Boy." I hiss between clenched teeth. Will snickers quietly before shutting the door behind him and turning off the light again, leaving me in darkness.

A small tear slides down my cheek.

Skeleton Boy...

Do I really look that bad?

It feels like the cold shadows surrounding me are feeding into my thoughts.

Does he really see me like that? I know everyone else does, but maybe I was just hoping Will would see me differently.

Who am I kidding? Why did I expect him to be any different? That's not fair for me to assume the best. It's not my place, especially with how the rest of my life has gone.

Plus, I barely know Will. I mean, I kinda know him, but not, like, as a friend. I don't have any friends. It's easier that way. Things get annoying when people start acting like they care.

But it's not like I choose to not have friends. Yeah, they're annoying but sometimes it doesn't suck to have someone to go on a quiet walk with.

What?! I don't know what friends do with each other! I told you—I don't have any!

I sniffle quietly, regretting how weak it sounds. I'd probably kill myself if Will heard me crying.

I mean—how embarrassing would that be?

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling a few tears fall to my cold cheeks. Nightmares lull me away into sleep, dragging me along like a rag doll.

__Will's POV__

I give a quiet sigh as I sit back against the wall right outside Nico's room.

He's crying...

Why?

Was it something I said? Something I did?

I really didn't know, but I was determined to find out what broke the steel-hardened facade of the Ghost King. I pull myself to my feet and take a deep breath, pushing myself down the hall to check on the other patients.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really appreciate seeing comments! <3
> 
> 02/19/2021


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